


Parts

by Green



Series: The Rest Is Still Unwritten [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 04:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21332401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: Derek is sent to buy a part for their spaceship. He comes back with a Stiles.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Rest Is Still Unwritten [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/369341
Comments: 35
Kudos: 639





	Parts

The name of the planet is Tavenna and the Triskele lands on her early in the morning, local time. Derek's not sure how they know when morning is since with twin suns it looks like it's always day on Tavenna anyway, but Peter relays the time over the intercom when they land. They've never been to Tavenna before. The planet's not part of any larger government, and while that might sound like a good spot for smugglers like the Hales, it spells trouble to Derek. The planet is a law unto itself, and in Derek's experience, that's not a good thing.

Still, when they landed, the Triskele made that sputtering, coughing noise that reminded them why Laura said to stop off here in the first place. Peter says they need a new "dropkick coupling" which sounds fake but is just the nickname. The real name of the part is written on a piece of paper in Derek's pocket, along with every last credit to their names. They're expecting a good chunk of credits when they deliver their current cargo, but they can't deliver if the ship stops flying. 

When Derek steps foot off the Triskele's ramp, his feet hit grit, dirt and rock. The planet's dry and dusty, not a place Derek wants to spend more time on than he needs to. Some planets are okay, but his home is his ship. He'd rather spend all his time in space than on solid ground. Peter and Laura laugh about it since they're werewolves and are supposed to want territory and room to roam. To run.

Derek just calls the Triskele his territory. Home is where the pack is.

He follows the signs to the marketplace and sets about looking for a parts dealer or anyone who looks like a mechanic. His boots kick up yellow dust as he walks, making him grimace.

There's food in the market stalls, but nothing looks fresh. One stall has clothes. He walks past a table with some gadgets he's seen before, and some he hasn't. His eyes roam over a bookseller, and he wants to stop and browse, but he's aware of the small number of credits they have and what they need to go toward.

And then, at the end of the line, he sees a boy sitting on a rock with a collar and a chain attached to a post. A slave. 

Derek's stomach turns over.

Slavery's illegal in most places, with good reason, but apparently here not so much. He sneers at the thought of the planet letting this kind of thing go on. He looks around, wondering if there's any way he can free the boy without getting himself killed.

All that thinking has him not paying attention to much until he's standing right in front of the boy. Well, up close Derek can see he's not so much a boy as a young man. Seventeen, eighteen, maybe as old as twenty. He has large brown eyes and a nose smudged with dirt or grease. A few moles dot his face, but he's clean shaven and doesn't look starved or beaten. Just… dirty, and a quick sniff tells Derek that he hasn't bathed in some time. 

"Dude, did you just smell me?" the slave asks. He sounds offended.

An older man comes along then and cuffs the side of the slave's head. "Shut up," he tells him, then turns to Derek with a big smile. "Interested?"

Derek scowls at him and talks to the slave. "How old are you? What's your name?"

The slavemaster laughs. "He is as old as you want him to be, and you can name him anything. Don't you know this?"

The slave bites his lip hard, obviously putting in an effort not to speak. That's when Derek notices the cattle prod in the slavemaster's hand. 

Derek growls under his breath. "You just have the one?"

Maybe the slave heard his growl. His heartbeat nearly trips over itself as it speeds up. He doesn't smell more fearful than when Derek started talking, though.

The slavemaster nods. "This isn't my regular market. I stopped off to get some supplies last night, and left this one here in case anyone was interested. I'm on my way to pick up more stock, but I was hoping to sell this one off first." He looks Derek up and down, then shrugs. "Look. This one is a troublemaker. I'll sell him to you cheap. How does… two hundred credits sound?"

To Derek, it sounds like all the money he has in the world. He doesn't know how much a dropkick coupling costs, but Peter seemed convinced he'd need to haggle to get a seller down to two hundred.

"What do I want with a troublemaker?" Derek asks the slavemaster.

The slavemaster wriggles his eyebrows. "Oh, but more fun to break, yeah?"

Derek smells blood. He looks over and sees the boy has bitten his lip so hard it's now bleeding. He does smell like fear now, and Derek knows he can't just let him get sold to someone who thinks they have to 'break' him.

"I'll take him." The words are out of Derek's mouth before he can think better of it.

The slavemaster smiles. Derek wants to punch right through his teeth, into his mouth, and out the back of his head. "I'll get his papers." 

As the slavemaster scurries away like a giant rat, the slave looks up at Derek, defiant. He doesn't speak, but his eyes say everything Derek needs to know.

"It's okay, I won't… I'm not…" Derek struggles to find the right thing to say. "I won't hurt you. What's your name?"

"Stiles," the slave whispers.

Derek nods. "Okay. I'm Derek. I… we'll work it out, okay?"

Stiles looks confused, and it breaks Derek's heart. "Work what out?" But then the slavemaster comes back.

"Papers, all ready for you to sign."

Derek signs. He feels cold.

* * *

On the way back to the ship, Derek starts to dread what the rest of the pack will say. He also wants to talk to the slave — dear moons, he bought a slave — but he doesn't know how to voice his questions.

"How old are you really?" Derek finally manages to ask.

"On which planet?" Stiles asks.

Derek huffs in annoyance but admits to himself it's a clever question.

Stiles seems to like that he's annoyed him. "Okay, so I'm seventeen Federal years old."

Still a kid. "How long have you been…" Derek asks, then trails off awkwardly.

"A slave?" Stiles asks. He yelps and then Derek smells blood. 

Derek looks down. Stiles isn't wearing shoes and he's walking on the hot, gritty surface of the planet. Derek frowns. "Let me see."

"Stepped on a rock," Stiles says, hissing a little. But he shows Derek the bottom of his foot, which is cut and bleeding.

Derek can't heal him, but he can drain the pain. "We'll get it cleaned up when we get back to the ship." In the meantime… "Hop on my back."

Stiles blinks up at him. "What?"

Derek grits his teeth. "Either hop on my back or I'll throw you over my shoulder. You can't walk around on this planet with no shoes."

Stiles stares at him incredulously for a long moment, then shrugs. His weight is light on Derek's back and Derek can only think about making sure he eats a good meal when they get back to the ship.

And takes a long shower.

"Peter's gonna kill me," Derek grumbles as he walks toward where they left the Triskele.

"Who's Peter?" Stiles asks.

"My uncle. Our pilot." Derek says. _No, he won't kill me. He'll torture me first, and Laura will let him._ He really should have ignored the slave. Peter would have.

But as he leads Stiles up the ramp to the Triskele, he thinks, _But how could I?_ Stiles's eyes are wide as he takes in the ship and it reminds Derek just how vulnerable he is. How vulnerable he _was_ back with the slavemaster. 

'A troublemaker', the slavemaster had said. Had Stiles tried to run away before? Been 'defiant'?

He doesn't have time to wonder more when Laura appears before them. "What's this?"

Derek rubs the back of his neck. "I bought a slave."

"Because it was a two for one deal with the part we need, I hope you're going to say. Otherwise…" Laura trails off and growls a little. Stiles moves behind Derek, as if Derek can protect him.

"Did you get the part?" Peter asks, strolling into the bay. "We're not going anywhere until we get this ship fixed. As cute as the slave is, I'm pretty sure you know that."

"Cute?" Stiles squeaks.

Peter smiles at him. "Under all that grime, maybe." He sighs. "Derek, tell me you didn't blow all our credits on saving a slave?"

Beneath the dirty and overly-salty smell of body odor, Stiles smells like confusion. 

"No," Laura says with a stern expression. "Tell _me_."

Their parents had rescued slaves as a sideline all their lives. Derek knows he doesn't need to say, 'It's what Mom would have wanted.' But Talia Hale wouldn't have done it so sloppily, paying her last credit to save one slave. Would she? She would have had a plan. Derek acted before he thought.

"I'm sorry," Derek says.

"We can't fly without an intact dropkick coupling, nephew," Peter says, starting to growl. "So unless your new slave is _magic_-"

"I can totally fix it!" Stiles pipes up.

Peter stops talking to stare at him. "...Oh, can you now?"

Stiles blinks at him, then offers a hopeful smile. "Got some duct tape?"

* * *

And that is how Stiles meets the love of his life, is rescued from slavery, and joins the crew of the Triskele as the ship's mechanic.

(The love story itself is quite another tale, but this is where it started.)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not writing more of this. Read the series description.


End file.
